


Midtones

by VampireNaomi



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/pseuds/VampireNaomi
Summary: Two times that Albert comes home thinking he'll be alone. Based on episodes 9 and 10 of Part V.





	Midtones

**Author's Note:**

> The first part is a missing scene from episode 9, and the second takes place right after episode 10. You can read some past Lupin/Albert into this if you want to.

There was light in his apartment windows. Albert dashed behind the corner and pressed his back against the wall, alarmed. Had Lupin left the lights on? Or had the assassins from the bridge gotten there before him? Wouldn’t they turn _off_ the lights to ambush him?

He should have thought of this, prepared some other place where he could go. All his effort had gone into figuring out Lupin’s plans and outsmarting him, and he’d forgotten that they weren’t the only players in this game. For a while, the world had existed only for him and Lupin. Now that the rug had been pulled from under his feet, he didn’t know what to do. Improvising had never been his forte.

For a while, he considered his options but decided that if they were still after him, they would have caught up with him on the way. His skills were his mind and gadgets. It was a miracle he’d survived the encounter on Pont Neuf with little more than a bump to the back of his head. Most likely, they had just decided to let him go. He wasn’t worth their time.

That thought gave him the push he needed to cross the street and approach the house where he lived. Frustration made him walk in long, swift strides. He’d worked so hard to pull one over Lupin and get him to steal the book for him, and then he’d lost it before he’d even had the chance to take a look at its pages. What an embarrassing defeat.

He was glad Lupin hadn’t seen it. His mocking words would have etched right through his skin and reached some insecurities he was still trying to bury.

He shoved that thought away. It came with the memory of Lupin lying on the ground in a rapidly growing puddle of blood, one of his partners knelt by his side. Years ago, that would have been him with the protective hand on Lupin’s back, and it twisted Albert’s stomach to think about that.

He’d planned to shoot Lupin from the start. It was the only way to keep him down and to stop him from trying to get the book back, but he had also just wanted to rub his victory to his face. Lupin had never outgrown the illusion of his own immortality, and the disbelief on his face as his knees had given in had been exquisite. And yet… Albert had been sure he didn’t want to see him die before he’d witnessed his plans coming to fruition, but now he wondered if he wanted to see him dead at all.

His keys were the only items he hadn’t lost that night. His phone was in the bottom of the river, the gun lying somewhere in the street with his fingerprints all over it, and his car abandoned by the bridge. He’d rather not think about where the black book had ended up. After gloating at Lupin, he’d made too many amateurish blunders himself.

The exhaustion hit him as the elevator doors closed and he started going up. His back left a wet smudge on the wall, and it was a struggle to straighten his form and walk out of the elevator after he reached the correct floor. He hoped he’d be able to sleep through the headache that was starting to throb inside his skull.

Was it a suicide to go home, he wondered at the door but opened it anyway. He waited a moment before going in to see if anything happened.

“Albert? Where have you been?”

For a moment, he stood at the door and stared stupidly at Tickey who was sitting on the couch with a magazine in his lap. It was a familiar sight, but it filled him with dread. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

“I thought you had a job in Tours. You said you’d stay overnight,” he said.

“That was some weird prank. There was nobody at the address they gave me. It was a total waste of time, so I decided to come back early.” That was the second time that day that Tickey told him the job had been cancelled. The first had been Lupin, giving himself a reason to be around in disguise.

It was now that Tickey noticed the state Albert was in and gave him a bewildered look. “What happened to you? Did you take a dip in the Seine?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

New thoughts were racing through his head. Of course, it was Lupin who had lured Tickey away from Paris so he could disguise himself as him. Someone else might not have bothered. He could have just killed him for those ten minutes he’d impersonated him. Albert’s knees felt wobbly again.

He had to get Tickey away. If those assassins targeted him again, they wouldn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. Tickey knew nothing about what was going on with the black book. Albert should have thought of that before. _He_ should have been the one to lure him away with a fake job offer.

“Albert? Albert!”

“What?”

“You’re spacing out. What’s wrong?”

Was he? He hadn’t realized more than a second had passed. He felt around the bump on his head. Was that it? Or was he falling apart the same way his plans had? Was he shaking because of the damp, cold clothes clinging to him, or because nothing was under his control anymore?

“Sorry. It’s nothing. I suppose I’m just a little tired.”

“Why did you fall into the river?”

“I was kidding. I wasn’t really...” But what could he say? Even rain wouldn’t leave him drenched the way he was. If he took off his shoes and turned them over, they’d trickle water on the floor.

“Did someone push you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would anyone push me?”

It was a rare moment when Tickey wasn’t looking at him with a smile. That was what had made him first notice him in a crowd of reporters and photographers. That was why he’d remembered his face when he’d asked him to stop for a photo after a press conference almost a month later. Granted, Tickey smiled at a lot of people, but Albert had a good eye for details. He knew he didn’t smile like that to anyone else. Lupin might have done an otherwise perfect job at impersonating him, but that he hadn’t gotten right.

Albert slicked back the wet hair that was falling over his eyes and gave him a wry smirk that he hoped was reassuring. Some of the tension around Tickey’s shoulders disappeared, but the wary look didn’t leave his eyes.

“I can think of at least two reasons,” he said.

Albert needed a moment to catch his meaning. This conversation was going to all the wrong directions.

“It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s not us,” he said, sounding desperate even in his own ears.

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you do that kind of thing for fun! Look at you, you’re completely soaked.” Tickey’s hands came to examine the clothes Albert was wearing, and he tugged at the lapels of his suit to illustrate his words. Albert hated that alarmed look on his face, but he knew exactly how to turn it into something else.

He caught Tickey’s hands with his own and made him stop.

“It’s about a case we’re working on. I had to jump in after some evidence. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“A case,” Tickey repeated, and he immediately pulled his hands away.

Albert’s job was the biggest blister in their relationship. He was always busy, and with Tickey’s sporadic schedule on top of it, they sometimes spent weeks without finding time to even go to bed at the same time. They’d thought that moving together would help, but it was only making it clearer how bad they were at compromises.

He couldn’t talk about his job with Tickey, which the other understood but didn’t like. Tickey always had something interesting to tell him about his photoshoots, celebrity gossip, or the locations he visited and wished they could see together - if they ever had time. Albert didn’t mind; he was used to being the one who listened and didn’t talk about himself.

But Tickey minded. He didn’t have the ego of some people Albert had been with and wanted to hear about his life, something more significant than what he had for lunch. Albert couldn’t tell him much about his past, either. It was becoming more and more of an issue as the initial fire of attraction grew smaller but there wasn’t enough shared ground to build anything stable in its place.

“I thought you didn’t work in the field,” Tickey said. His tone was light, but Albert knew he was suspicious. There was no reason for him to jump after evidence of any kind unless it fell off his desk.

“It’s complicated. Don’t ask.”

“Fine,” Tickey said with a huff. Then, he reconsidered. “You know that I’m just worried about you, right? If you’re in some kind of danger -”

“I’m not. I said don’t ask. This is confidential.”

There had been times when he’d used his job as an excuse just because he didn’t want to talk about something unpleasant. Tickey wasn’t dumb. He knew. The only thing that was uncertain was for how long he’d tolerate that.

“Alright, _fine._ ” 

He watched Tickey battle his irritation, and it seemed he won, for now. What Albert had ever done to deserve someone so patient, he didn’t know.

“Get out of those clothes and take a shower. I’ll heat you some soup,” Tickey said with a resigned sigh.

“Sounds good. Thank you.” Albert moved to give him a grateful peck to the cheek, but Tickey turned away to go to the kitchen, not acknowledging his words at all. Whatever. If he wanted to be like that, Albert would let him.

He was half-way out of his shirt when he thought of something and ran to the kitchen just in time to see Tickey put a bowl of soup into the microwave. 

“What’s that?”

“It was on the stove when I got here. Have you been practicing? It’s the best you’ve ever made.”

“You ate it?” Albert barked the words out in disbelief. That was the soup Lupin had made. Anything could be in it. Lupin had planted an explosive in his car. He could have poisoned the soup, or at least put something nasty in it as a joke.

“Yeah. Was I not supposed to? Don’t leave food lying around if -”

“How long ago was it? How do you feel?” Albert put a hand on Tickey’s forehead to check if he was burning up and tried to see if there was anything off about his eyes. If he was in pain, he’d say so, but so many poisons didn’t have such obvious symptoms. It horrified him to think that he might find Tickey cold and silent by his side in the morning, all because he’d been so careless.

Not telling Tickey anything wasn’t protecting him, he realized. It was just making him likelier to walk into danger without suspecting a thing.

Tickey looked at him like he was crazy, then snorted and swatted his hand away. “What is it with you tonight? I’m fine. If you don’t believe me, try the soup yourself.”

He did, not even bothering to warm it first. Two spoonfuls were enough to slow down his heart so that he no longer heard it beat in his ears. The familiar taste made him feel like a fool. Lupin wouldn’t poison him. Everything that night had been preparation for their confrontation on Pont Neuf. Lupin knew Albert wasn’t dumb enough to touch anything he’d prepared.

Maybe that was why he’d bothered to make the soup in the first place, as a mocking reminder of things long gone. Lupin had often cooked for him in the past. Albert had sometimes asked for this soup in particular.

“It’s awful,” he said and dropped the spoon in the bowl.

“If you’d warm it -”

“I don’t want it. It makes me sick. Throw it away.”

“Okay, but I’m not making anything else. Eat whatever you want.”

He had a long shower to collect his thoughts. The hot water washed away some of the irritation festering under his skin and made it clear what his priorities should be. If he wanted to climb his way up from this hole he’d dug for himself, he needed to be able to work without distractions.

There was tea waiting for him when he returned to the living room a few moments later. The pungent smell of mint had bothered him before, but that was how Tickey liked his tea, and Albert had learned to tolerate it, then to enjoy it. They always had it when they found the time to visit Tickey’s parents together.

It was a peace offering to stop things from getting worse. Albert made a point of glancing at the tea but not taking any.

“I got a message from a client. He wants me in Roubaix tomorrow,” Tickey said.

“Is it someone you know?”

“Yes. And I’m going.”

“How long will you be gone?” he asked absent-mindedly as he sat down on the couch with his tablet and made a show of checking his e-mail.

“I don’t know. Could be days.”

Good. The longer, the better. Hopefully, everything would be over by the time Tickey came back to Paris. He’d make everything up to him somehow then, smother him in love to make him not realize how he’d been kept in the dark again.

He listened to Tickey explain how someone had landed in hospital and he was jumping in to cover for her. There was a small fair to celebrate relations with Bouïra, the most recent twin town of Roubaix, and he’d be working with an old friend on a series of human interest articles about multiple generations of people with Algerian background and what they’d made out of their lives. It was so personal that it was hard not to react in any way, not to show he was interested.

“Albert?”

“Hm? Did you say something?”

“Were you even listening?”

“Sorry, I was distracted. This case is giving me bit of a headache. What were you saying?”

The glare Tickey gave him wasn’t just angry, it was hurt. He slammed down his half-finished tea.

“If you can’t talk about your work with me, fine, but don’t bring it home!”

“You know how important it is.”

“And mine isn’t?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Yeah? That’s how you act! What am I even to you? Some trophy boyfriend you humor when you feel like it?”

Albert didn’t have to fake the strangled sound that escaped him. “No, that’s… What are you saying? You’re getting mad over nothing!”

But this wasn’t just about tonight. It was the foundation of their whole relationship, all of the suppressed frustration of not being trusted. Tickey knew he was keeping something big a secret. No affectionate gestures when they had a little time could make that alright.

“Nothing? I want to know what’s going on in your life, Albert! And I thought you cared about mine. It’s supposed to be our life now!”

Albert turned his eyes back to his tablet as he said, “You’re being irrational. We can talk about this when you come back.”

Tickey let out a disgusted snort and stormed out of the living room. He slammed the bedroom door shut behind him, and Albert supposed it might be better to stay on the couch for the night. He tried and failed to find some humor in them having reached this milestone in their relationship. Every part of him craved to go after Tickey and apologize.

But he needed to remain rational and remember his priorities. He had to get Tickey out of Paris, even if it meant he’d go with a broken heart. The events on Pont Neuf, how quickly his bullet had drained almost all life out of Lupin and how close to death he’d been himself, had made it frighteningly clear how easy it was for everything to slip through his fingers, no matter how well he planned.

That thought finally got a droll chuckle out of him. It just might be that his attempts to avoid risking the one thing he didn’t want to lose would lead to exactly that.

***

Albert felt like he was walking in a dream. Paris was unrealistically empty, the streets almost devoid of people and sound, like someone had wiped everyone away. Perhaps it was simply that Lupin had been there. It seemed like he’d stolen a little bit of the city’s heart and put it in his pocket.

His chest felt tight with the remains of the laughter that had bubbled out of him only a moment ago. He had to keep the rest of it trapped because he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he let his emotions run free. The night with Lupin had left his nerves raw, and memories of things he could no longer have were making his breath hitch.

He stopped to look at the Seine, glittering in the morning sun, and wished for the turmoil within him to sink to the bottom together with the fake black book. He’d long since made his decision. He didn’t belong running around in the night with Lupin anymore. There was no reason to feel like he should have stayed in the car.

Hell, he hoped Lupin was feeling at least a fraction of the same doubts.

Slowly, he became aware of the growing noise of traffic, shoes on the sidewalk as people hurried to work, bits and pieces of conversation with each other and on the phone as they passed him. He turned around to face the city, suddenly more confident in himself. There was a reason he’d left the life of a thief behind and decided to aim for something else. What he wanted was right here.

It was like fog was clearing inside his head. He became more aware of the painful throb in his right arm, and he clung to it like it was the only thing keeping him on the surface. It suddenly hit him how much work he had to do - he would have to find a way to spin things so that Guillaume was arrested, expose Calvess’s criminal connections, and make sure his involvement in taking down José’s group got swept under the rug.

He snorted to himself as he thought back to Lupin’s words to him earlier. Perhaps he didn’t have any thief buddies, but he had allies in high positions who liked his vision. They wouldn’t want to see him go down. It’d take some careful planning to play his cards right when he didn’t have the advantage of the black book, but he’d manage.

The walk home took him nearly half an hour. He imagined how lovely it’d be to go straight to bed after the long night, but he had too much to do. A quick shower and strong coffee were the only luxuries he’d allow himself.

When he pulled the door open and stepped inside, he noticed a black suitcase on the couch, open and its contents a mess, like everything had been thrown inside in a haste. He stared at it in disbelief until he heard footsteps and looked up to see Tickey emerge from the direction of the bedroom.

“Are you leaving?” Albert asked.

“What are you talking about? I just came back.”

He hadn’t heard from Tickey since he’d left for Roubaix. He hadn’t replaced his personal phone yet, so there’d been no messages or calls, but he’d kept an eye on his Instagram to see how the job was going. The terrorist attacks that had ravaged France for the past half a week had made sure he didn’t have time to miss him, but it struck him with full force now.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Tickey. I didn’t -”

He took a hovering step towards him but stopped, unsure. He’d made Tickey so mad last time, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. There were so many lies and secrets between them that he didn’t know how to close that distance, or if he had the right to try.

Tickey ran around the couch to grab him by the arms, like he was worried he’d fall. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

Everything. The night with Lupin had made him see some things clearly for the first time, and as he now stood in the middle of his apartment, wondrous sunlight pouring in through the windows, he thought how empty the room felt.

“I have so much to apologize for. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to stay.”

Tickey’s hands around his arms tightened. “What’s this? Have you been cheating on me or something? Is that why I couldn’t reach you?”

“What? No! I lost my phone in the river. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“You didn’t tell me anything! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? And with these attacks all over the place, I got scared that something had happened and they just hadn’t made it public because -”

“Hey,” Albert said and wrapped is better arm around Tickey’s shoulders. “Nothing like that. I’m fine.”

Tickey leaned into the embrace but pulled away almost immediately. “Ugh, you smell. What is this?”

“Gunpowder and blood.”

“Ha, sounds dangerous.” Tickey’s smile dropped quickly when Albert didn’t respond in kind. “Wait, are you serious?”

“One hundred percent. Last night I...” He’d killed at least five people. How could he ever say that?

“Is this about your job? Should you be telling me this?”

It was high time he told him everything. Tickey deserved to know what kind of a man he was choosing to spend his nights with. It’d probably make him leave, but that had to be better than going back to a mockery of a relationship where he could never know if he was being told the truth.

It wasn’t really Lupin as a person that Albert missed so much, he realized, though that was certainly part of it. He wanted companionship, the certainty that there was someone in his life who’d have his back and accept him. It was selfish to burden Tickey with his dark secrets, but it’d be even worse to keep them from him and not let him make his own decisions.

“There’s so much I should have told you a long time ago,” he said. “I thought I was keeping you safe, but actually I was… There are things in my past you probably can’t accept. I’m scared to hear what you’ll say.”

Tickey let out a shakey laugh. “And you’re making me scared to hear it. Is this connected to the recent terrorist attacks?”

“Yes.”

“Are you somehow involved in carrying them out?”

“No! Of course not!” He’d put a stop to them, he wanted to say but resisted the temptation. First he had to tell him about far older things, about Lupin, and how he hadn’t joined the police with selfless intentions.

“Good. That’s the most important thing I needed to hear. I’ll listen to the rest. And I have a lot of questions.”

“Of course. Ask me anything.”

“Starting with...” Tickey looked him up and down. “Why is this the first time I see you wear this coat?”

“I’m… what?”

“Come on, let me have one last joke before you drop something awful in my lap. Is that coat part of your dark past? Because if so, will you wear it again if I accept what you have to say?”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of ridiculous? Am I not too old for it?” Putting it on had been a decision made on impulse. He’d felt stupid standing by Lupin’s side. _He_ had upgraded his style to match his age, and Albert had worried he’d looked like an embarrassing has-been trying to rediscover his youth.

“You look damn good in it. Makes me want to forgive you already.”

Albert felt unreal. Why were they talking about his stupid coat? Didn’t Tickey understand how serious this was? Had he forgotten the stench of death on him?

“Stop. Don’t give me that kind of hope. You don’t know what I’m going to tell you.”

“No, but I’ve had to learn to read people to weed out the assholes. I don’t believe you could have fooled me the entire time. If this has something to do with your job, then it can’t be all bad. And even if I can’t accept it, I can probably understand it. That’s got to count for something, right?”

It was more than Albert had the right to ask for. Tickey would be horrified and angry once he knew everything. Perhaps he’d grab that suitcase he hadn’t even finished unpacking and storm back out, never to return. But there was a tiny chance he wouldn’t, and Albert wanted to cling to that hope.

“How about you make some coffee?” he suggested. “I have to call a few people before my opponents have time to do damage control. I promise I’ll tell you everything that’s going on, but this is too important to wait. It’s a lot bigger than us.”

“Sure, if you first tell me the reason you jumped into the river.”

“You’re still thinking about that?”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about the past few days. It’s where this started, isn’t it?”

Far from it, but it was a good place to begin the long story he was about to tell him.


End file.
